


The Birthday Gift

by queensmanor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon? We don't know her., Cute Ending, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Twitter, Not Canon Compliant, Post TROS, no death here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22484725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queensmanor/pseuds/queensmanor
Summary: When the dust settles with a dyad completely intact, it's time for the members of that dyad to begin a brighter future. Turns out, some details still have yet to come to light. What happens when the revelation of one leads to something even grander for Ben Solo and Rey?
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	The Birthday Gift

**Author's Note:**

> New year, new goals. One of which is to do more fanfic writing. I've got a longer fic in mind that I'll be starting at some point soon, but I saw a tweet about a birthday headcanon made by @roguewn on Twitter and it inspired me to do a thing. 
> 
> I need to preface that this takes place post TROS except I'm yeeting the Rey Palpatine thing and restoring Rey of Nowhere. Furthermore, Ben dying never happened. In my mind, TROS itself never happened, but I can work best with this prompt if I have it take place at some point after TROS in an alternate universe. 
> 
> With that said, please enjoy! Kudos & comments are always deeply appreciated! 
> 
> Twitter: @thehauntedmanda.

Warm rays of sunlight peek through ivory blinds. Boldly slipping through the openings formed by said blinds, they're not timid in their endeavor to rouse an unconscious maiden from tranquil slumber. Once eluding her so effortlessly, restful sleep has ceased proving a mere fantasy thanks to the calming presence of her counterpart. The very one who followed her into the cavernous heart of darkness and ensured that they both emerged alive. The very individual nimble fingers languidly seek out as she begins to rise to greet another day. Except, it's pure air that caresses those searching digits rather than masculine fingers. Furrowing umber brows, she finally opens hazel eyes at last. They're imbued with the same bewilderment that she feels within upon failing to behold the wondrous sight that routinely greets her at this time. He's left the room, but not the estate. It's a fact that she ascertains merely by reaching out in the Force with the same unfaltering resolve that she demonstrated when agreeing to take up residence with him in this charming abode. Once inhabited by his venerable grandmother, it's the type of home that enchants and delights those fond of nature. 

Yet, it's not the pleasing thought of verdure that compels her to leave behind the sumptuous bed that she shares with her beloved. After several nights of attempting and ultimately failing to sleep separately in spacious rooms of their own upon her own insistence, they'd acknowledged their mutual lack of desire to sleep in solitude. She cannot imagine ever reverting - ever returning to their previous arrangement for any reason, and she's unequivocally certain that he feels the same. _He's_ the reason why she finally rises after stretching limbs that have been idle for a number of hours. Much too intrigued by the noticeable absence of her housemate, she doesn't bother to change out of the emerald nightdress in which she retired for the night. As she's learned over the standard month that they've been here - time spent properly acquainting themselves with each other as they hadn't been able to do during the tumultuous war that they assisted in ending, time is never of the essence. There will always be plenty of it. There are no consequential obligations requiring her to be anywhere by a certain time.

It doesn't take terribly long for the perplexed lionheart to discover him in one of the property's dining rooms. A tantalizing feast rests upon the table, and he appears to be adding the final touches with matching glasses of colorful juice. Immediately, disparate pairs of eyes meet. There's always something so very _magnetic_ about it. As if an intangible thread eternally tying them together is suddenly plucked to ensure that they're undeniably aware of each other when nearby. Simultaneously, they both offer a cordial smile in greeting. Canting her head, she inquires about the spread of appetizing food that he's prepared. "What's this about?" Rather than answering, he kindly voices a query of his own and takes a seat at the table while gesturing for her to mirror his action. "Sleep well?" Although she proceeds to comfortably seat herself at the table as she bears no intention whatsoever of refraining from indulging, her smile widens a fraction. A name forever familiar to her lips, she addresses him in a fashion that informs him of her lack of interest in giving up on unearthing the intended meaning of this lavish meal. " _Ben_."

His smile becomes just a tad sheepish as she begins to help herself to delectable starfruit, but he supplies an answer. No, not one that sates her gnawing curiosity, but one that continues their discussion nevertheless. "I thought we could do something different today." **Obviously**. It's the _reason_ for that seemingly spontaneous decision that she cannot determine. Only after chewing and swallowing does she resume her search for clarity. Talking with food in her mouth is a habit that she's been working diligently on abandoning, but one that she's unlikely to wholly leave behind. Just because she's removed herself from the desert, doesn't mean that she can completely remove the desert from herself. Nor does she want to, for that matter. "Why?" After drinking some of the juice from his pristine glass, he gingerly sets a minuscule box on the table.

Although there's no tentativeness to be discerned in the movement, his tenebrous eyes betray something akin to apprehension. No, it's definitely not fear, but rather _nervousness_. Though Niima was hardly a place for love to blossom and flourish, she's reminded of a vivid memory from years ago in which she observed a young girl shyly approach another. Both scavengers accustomed to laboring all day like her, but neither of them friends of hers. She had no time to establish friendships of substance, and one could never be too generous about investing trust in others on a planet where thieves constantly sought to exploit guileless people. Still, she watched with vigilant eyes as the two young girls interacted. The more timid one held such radiant hope in her eyes, but nervousness eclipsed that look of hopeful yearning within her cerulean eyes as she posed a question. The other softly smiled, leaned in, whispered something, and planted an innocent kiss upon the other girl's cheek before pulling away.

Though too far away to hear the exact words exchanged by the industrious youths and more preoccupied with thoughts of the onerous work that she still had left to do that day, she recalls turning away feeling curious about what they'd said. Naturally, she presumed that the timorous one had confessed feelings and the other had expressed the reciprocation of those genuine feelings, but it's impossible not to be curious about the exact words that were traded. It's impossible even for someone like the conscientious Force Sensitive, who didn't consider herself much of a romantic then and still doesn't to a degree now. Nevertheless, it's the nervousness of consciously placing one's vulnerable heart in the unpredictable hands of someone else that manifested itself within the nameless girl. That same nervousness presently occupies the expressive eyes of her other half after placing that tiny jade box on the table 'tween them.

"You mentioned you didn't know your birthday and you weren't exactly sure of your age." Whilst biting into a glazed pastry that she's selected, she gives a solitary nod of agreement. She'd revealed that to him a couple of weeks ago. To which he gave an indecipherable look as if he'd been tempted to say something, but merely nodded instead. Though she can guesstimate her age, she knows not the precise date. "It's today, and I know how old you are." At that, astonishment and bemusement battle for dominance within her eyes. She stills in her movements, and abruptly ceases eating for a moment. "What makes you say that?" It seems highly improbable for him to be aware of such details and for her not to be. Still, albeit eagerly, she waits for him to answer. Reminiscent of the way in which he - no, _Kylo_ \- had unevenly breathed out before articulating his fervent desire for her to join him aboard the Supremacy, he gives a tremulous exhale. "For years, something felt wrong. It felt as if something important was missing. I never figured it out, and the feeling suddenly stopped one day a few months after I turned ten." His gaze softens almost imperceptibly, but enough so that she can perceive it. "Rey, that was twenty-one years ago from today."

It takes an immeasurable amount of strength for her not to simply drop her dining utensils and let them clatter. Rather, while setting them down, she swallows around the ball that's begun to form in her throat because of his heartfelt admission. "That feeling of absence isn't one I want to experience again." With that, he uses the Force to gently push in her direction the mysterious box. "Ben, what is this?" Though she's released the lone query with an appreciable softness to her voice, there's this inexplicable feeling of already knowing what she'll discover should she open it despite never having received such a thing and despite never having beheld someone else receive such a thing.

Yet, that feeling doesn't stop her vision from beginning to blur with unshed tears as she tentatively opens it and discovers a piece of glistening jewelry nestled inside. Affixed to a gold band, a diamond scintillates 'neath the bright lights of the room. Still unaccustomed to receiving expensive gifts, she can't help but be moved by both the appearance of the ornate ring itself and the significance of it. She's content to simply marvel at it. "Happy Birthday, Rey. Marry me, please." Unable to help herself, she lets loose a tuneful laugh of amusement. It's certainly not an unkind thing, and there's nothing but euphoria to be found in her tearful gaze. "You're not good at asking." Looking up at him, she automatically catches a cheeky smile upon his face. Hope remains alive and well within his eyes. "Is that a yes?" With feminine fingers dabbing at the corners of her eyes, she allows a beatific smile to adorn her lips. "Yes, Ben Solo." 


End file.
